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She looks like a puppy that has been repeatedly kicked as her teeth sink into her bottom lip. It takes every ounce of self-control not to pull her into my arms and kiss the expression away. To tell her that I don’t mean one goddamn word of the bullshit coming out of my mouth. But it’s my lack of self-control that got me into this mess in the first place. I need to hold it together and right our relationship. If that’s even possible.

She straightens to her full height and says through stiff lips, “You don’t need to worry about staying at the party. I’ll catch a ride home with Mike.”

Even though I should say goodbye and get the hell out of here, my feet refuse to obey the commands of my brain.

Reluctant to leave, I shift my weight. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Before I can say anything else, she swings away and disappears through the crowd. I would be lying through my teeth if I didn’t admit there’s a voice inside my head demanding I take off after her.

But how can I do that?

How can I give in to this deep need I have for her when it’ll only end up ruining a different relationship in the process?

Maybe she doesn’t understand it, but what I’m doing is for the best.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Elle

Can you stick around after class?

I stare at my cell for a moment before lifting my gaze to the front of the lecture hall where Dr. Holloway loiters behind the podium. His attention is already locked on me. The question on the screen is evident in his blue eyes.

I give my head a slight nod in silent response before refocusing on my paper and the problems he assigned a couple of minutes ago. A weird sensation takes up residence in the pit of my belly. It seems kind of odd that he would send a text instead of asking me to stay once class is released. As soon as that thought tries to sneak its way into my consciousness, I shake it away.

I’ve been alone with him several times and there’s never been anything inappropriate about his behavior. Nothing that would lead me to believe this is anything more than a professor who is concerned about one of his students.

Just as I glance at the clock on the wall, his voice cuts through the quiet chatter of the room. “All right everyone, we’ll meet back here on Friday. If you have any questions about the assignment, I have office hours tomorrow afternoon. Don’t be afraid to pop in.”

I slam my book shut and shove it into my backpack.

“Hey, any interest in grabbing a coffee before your next class? You know I’m addicted to pumpkin spice.”

It’s one of Mike’s favorite coffee drinks. This might be an unpopular opinion, but I can’t stand it. It’s probably the only thing Mike and I disagree about.

Vehemently.

I shake my head. “No, I need to stay after and talk to Dr. H.”

“If it’s quick, I don’t mind waiting around. I’ve got a bit of time to waste.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how long it’ll take. You should go without me so you can grab your drink.” My lips quirk at the corners. “I’d hate to be the reason you fall asleep in your next class.”

“Please, girl. Even with a PICC line pumping caffeine straight to the vein, I’d still fall asleep in poli sci.”

We both rise to our feet before moving to the center aisle. With a quick wave, he joins the herd of slow-moving students making their way to the doors of the lecture hall. I swing in the opposite direction toward the front of the room where Dr. Holloway waits.

“Hi, you wanted to see me?”

His lips curve as his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Yeah, thanks for sticking around. Do you have a couple of minutes to talk?”

I nod. “I don’t have another class until twelve.”

“Okay, good. First off, I wanted to mention that I caught the play last night and it was fabulous. The whole cast was incredible.”

“Thank you!” Any unease swirling around inside me evaporates with the compliment. I’m still riding high from the performance. This weekend is the official opening, and I’m so excited. It’s an amazing feeling to see a production come together after pouring blood, sweat, and tears into it. There were so many late nights spent running lines and wolfing down cold pizza, all the while trying to squeeze homework in.

He pulls out a sheet of paper and holds it up. “This is your homework from the other day. Well done! It’s obvious that all of the hard work you’re putting into this class is paying off.”

My gaze falls to the sheet. This is the first time one of my assignments hasn’t been marked up with so much red ink that it resembles some poor animal slowly hemorrhaging to death.

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